Chapter 30
THEA
Amanda is waiting in the hallway when I come out of the bathroom.
She’s standing with her arms crossed, her expression carefully neutral. But her eyes track me with the focused attention of a lawyer who’s been trained to notice everything.
Shit.
“Better?” she asks.
“A little. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize.” She falls into step beside me as I move back toward the sitting room. “How long has that been going on?”
Great. Now I’m going to have to deal with a cross-examination.
“Just a few days.” The lie comes out so automatically that I almost believe it myself. “I think it’s just stress with the council and Kolya, along with everything else that’s been going on.”
She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “Thea.”
“I’m fine, Amanda. Really.”
She studies me for a long moment. Her sharp, assessing gaze moving over my face like she’s reading a brief. Sweat forms at my hairline.
“You’re pale,” she says.
“I’m always pale.”
Amanda purses her lips for a long moment. “You’re pale and you’re green. Tell me, when’s the last time you’ve been to a doctor?”
“Like, in general?”
“Like, in general.”
I want to duck into the nearest hallway and run. But her tone makes it clear that she’s not going to leave me alone until she’s got an answer that satisfies her.
“It’s been a long time. Could never really afford it. Hotel work didn’t have much in the way of insurance.”
“Gabriel can arrange an appointment,” she says without hesitation. “I’ll mention it to him. I’m sure he’ll be able to have one for you by the end of the day.”
“No.” The word comes out way too fast. “Please, don’t. He’s got enough to worry about right now. I don’t want him thinking I’m falling apart.”
She’s quiet for a moment. Then she nods slowly.
“Alright. But you need to take care of yourself, Thea. Whatever’s going on, you’re no use to anyone if you’re running yourself into the ground.
And please tell Gabriel if it gets worse.
He plays it cool, but he’d never forgive himself for not getting you checked out if it’s something more serious than stress. ”
“I know. I will.”
She stops and turns toward me, looking me up and down. I feel like I’m naked in front of her, like she’s got ultrasound eyes and can see right inside of me.
“I have a meeting with Gabriel about some legal matters. If you need anything, I’ll be around.”
I clear my throat. “Thank you for checking on me.”
She nods. “Thea, anything you tell me stays between us. I’m a lawyer. I’m good at compartmentalizing information.”
Something I can’t quite name flickers in her expression. Then she turns and heads toward Gabriel’s office.
I wait until she’s gone.
Then I go find Maria.
She’s in the laundry room, running sheets through the press and quietly humming to herself.
“Maria?”
She looks up, her eyes scanning my face. I’m still pale, a little clammy and sweaty. Her expression immediately shifts into maternal concern.
“Dio mio, you look terrible. Sit, sit down.”
“I’m fine.” I step into the room and close the door behind me. “I need to ask you something. And I need a little discretion.”
She says nothing, simply nodding. I take a breath.
“I need a pregnancy test.”
Silence. Her expression moves through several phases in quick succession—surprise, understanding, compassion. Then she reaches out and pats my hand with both of hers.
“Capisco,” she says softly. “You need me to go to the pharmacy?”
“I can’t go myself.”
“No, no. Of course not.” She’s already untying her apron. “Don’t worry. I’ll go now, while Mr. Moretti is in his meeting. I’ll tell Oscar I need supplies from the market.”
“Maria—” My voice cracks, and I hate how small and weak I sound. “You can’t tell Oscar about this. You can’t tell anyone. Please.”
“Nessuno.” She shakes her head firmly. “Nobody. This stays between us, capisce? This is women’s business.”
I exhale.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She squeezes my hands, then releases them. “Now, go to your room. Rest. I’ll be back within the hour.”
It’s the longest hour of my life.
I don’t rest at all—I do the opposite, in fact. I spend the time in my room pacing, twelve steps to the window, twelve steps back, until I force myself to sit on the edge of the bed. It works for a few minutes, but then I can’t sit still, so I start pacing again.
My mind won’t stop.
What if it’s positive? What do I do? How do I tell him? Do I tell him?
We’ve been sleeping together for almost two months. No protection. I’d told him I was on birth control, and that wasn’t a lie. But the truth of the matter is that I’d already been inconsistent in the weeks before the auction. And here at the mansion, I’d been even worse about it.
Stupid. So stupid.
I stop pacing and press my hand flat against my stomach.
My body has always been too much. Too soft, too visible. But now, it’s doing something miraculous.
The thought arrives without permission, quiet and certain. And despite everything—the danger, the bad timing, the impossibility of it all—I feel a flicker of something that isn’t terror or worry.
But then the terror comes roaring back, drowning it out.
I’m in the middle of a goddamn mob war. I’m the target of a psychopath who wants me dead. I’m living in a billionaire’s mansion, and I’m not allowed to leave—for good reason. I barely know who I am, or what my future looks like.
This can’t be happening.
There’s a soft knock at the door.
“Signorina Thea?”
Maria’s back.
I rush over and open the door. She slips inside quickly, her coat still on, a small pharmacy bag in her hands. She passes it to me without a word.
I look inside and see two tests.
“Two, just to be sure.”
“Grazie. Thank you so much.”
She reaches up and cups my face briefly—a gesture so warm, instinctive, and maternal that my eyes sting with tears.
“Coraggio,” she says. “Whatever happens, you have the courage to handle it.”
Then she’s gone.
I take the first test, then sit on the bathroom floor, my back against the tub.
I count the tiles. I think about my mother, about the dream I had of her weeks ago—her hands on my face, her voice saying, “You are loved, you are wanted, you are mine.”
I wonder what she’d say now. If she’d be horrified that I may be pregnant by a mob boss, that I’d been pulled even deeper into the world that had cost her and the rest of our family their lives.
My phone timer beeps. My hand shoots to the test, and I hold it in front of my face.
Two lines. Two lines that are immediately visible. I stare at them for a long time before picking up the second test. I take it and wait.
This time the word pregnant appears in the window. No mistaking what that means.
I set both tests down on the edge of the sink and press my hands over my mouth.
I’m pregnant with Gabriel Moretti’s child.
In the middle of all of this insanity—the council, Kolya, my newfound identity—there is a baby.
My baby.
A sob escapes me. Then another. I slide down against the wall, sitting on the cold tile.
I have no idea what to do.
Do I tell him? Do I not tell him? Do I wait until this mess is somehow solved? Until Kolya is dealt with? Until I know whether or not I’m going to survive the next month?
Until I know if he actually loves me?
What if this changes everything? What if he decides that a baby is too much to deal with? What if he decides he doesn’t want to be a part of the child’s life?
Everything is in his hands. I feel powerless in a way that makes me ill.
“Thea?”
I freeze. It’s Amanda’s voice outside the bathroom door.
“I knocked at the bedroom door,” she says. “It was open. I just wanted to check on you before I—” A pause follows. “Are you in there?”
Part of me wants to say nothing. But then it hits me that it would be the single most immature way to handle the situation. Besides, what if she’s being genuine? What if Amanda truly wants to help?
“I’m here.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “Just give me a sec—“
The door is opening before I can finish my sentence. Amanda steps in and looks at what’s on the counter. Her expression goes through multiple changes in two seconds.
I look up at her from the floor, saying the only thing I can.
“Please don’t tell him. Please.”
She just stares at me.
“Thea—”
“Please. I need time to process this. I need to figure out how the hell I’m going to tell him. Please, Amanda. Don’t say anything.”
She leans against the doorframe. Her expression is impossible to read, and I have no idea if she’s mad or sympathetic.
Then she sighs, crouching down to my level. Her perfect outfit, her perfect hair, her perfect composure are a total contrast to the mess that I am at that moment.
“How far along do you think you are?” she asks quietly.
“I don’t know. Probably a month. Maybe more.”
She glances away, and I can see her doing the mental math in her head. More than a month—she seems to understand—means that Gabriel and I were sleeping together for nearly the entirety of me being here. But if she’s jealous or upset, she doesn’t show it.
“You need to see a doctor.”
“I know.”
“Soon.”
“I know.”
She looks at the tests, then back at me.
“You need to tell him. God, he’d kill me if he knew that I knew but didn’t tell him.” She glances away.
“I’ll tell him. I will. Just… not yet. Not right now. Not with Kolya still out there and my life in danger…” I trail off, not sure what else to say. “I can’t put this on him right now. He needs to be focused.”
She’s quiet for a long moment.
“Alright,” she says finally. “I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you.”
“For now,” she adds firmly. “Gabriel is the kind of man who likes to know everything. You need to tell him. And don’t wait for the perfect time. He deserves to know—this is his child, too.”
I nod. “I will. I promise.”
She holds my gaze for a moment longer. Then she stands and extends her hand, helping me up from the floor.
“Wash your face,” she says. “You look terrible.”
I laugh. It’s a broken laugh, but real.
“That’s some comforting bedside manner.”
“Sorry. I’m a lawyer, not a therapist.” Her mouth curves slightly. “For what it’s worth—” she pauses, finding the right words. “Gabriel isn’t quite the man he seems on the surface, the one who runs a crime family, the one who’s ruthless and uncompromising. That’s not all he is.”
“I know,” I say quietly.
“Then trust that. And tell him soon.”
She takes one more look at me, then leaves.
I stand at the sink and look at my reflection. I’m pale and my face is streaked with tears. She’s right, I do look terrible.
But I also feel miraculous. My body is doing something incredible. And regardless of what happens next, there’s a life growing inside of me.
I’m going to protect it. No matter what it takes.